Salvaging and Salvation

Ok, how did that song by Salt-n-Pepa go...? “Let’s talk about Sex...” yeah, so now you know what this blog will be about and you can safely opt out now. So - I was asked to join a reading group that’s reading “Fifty Shades of Grey”.  It’s been a long time since I’ve read any erotica, and I have to admit I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.  I’ll admit I’m barely half way through the first book, but I have to agree with my friend and fellow blogger Lisa, yes, the writing leaves a bit to be desired.  But the sex scenes...?  Oh my, yes.  One of our fellow group members wondered why this was receiving so much attention.  In my opinion, and no offense please, but there are a lot of repressed women out there, and this is opening up some doors - BIG time. I think most of all this book is wonderfully empowering.  And not because of the subject matter.  There is a lot more to it than just the BDSM, this is about a woman discovering not just he...

6 million...that's how many Jews were killed during the Holocaust.  I know I've heard that number somewhere before in history and documentaries - but it's still a shocking number to think about...SIX MILLION. Wow...we just attended the Anti-Defamation League's 31st Annual Holocaust Remembrance Program at Boettcher Concert hall here in Denver...and, I'm utterly speechless.  That was probably one of the most emotional and inspiring events I've witnessed in a long time.   The Anti-Defamation League was founded in 1913 "to stop the defamation of the Jewish people and to secure justice and fair treatment to all."    April 15-22 2012 was proclaimed Holocaust Remembrance week in Colorado.  The event we attended tonight featured Ela Weissberger, a survivor of the Holocaust.  Her story started at the age of 11, when she was sent to Theresienstadt concentration camp in Czechoslavokia, where the Germans sent many artists, musicians, writers and actors. She spen...

There but for the grace of God go I... I think about this phrase often.  Through social media and the internet - we have become acutely aware of our world, and the people living in it.  We have become privy to personal triumphs and tragedies.  It’s the tragedies the media seems to focus on the most.  Facebook lets us into the personal lives of friends and associates.  I always see someone who has it worse than me.  It makes me keenly aware how blessed I am, and acknowledge everything I have.  I’ve never been homeless, suffered with an addiction (unless you count chocolate, ok yeah, and Facebook) so far I’ve been able to pay my bills (still no job, hoping I figure something out soon), I have my health, my children are safe and well, I have the love and support of my spouse on this new journey I’m on. When I get down on myself, especially now that I’m unemployed, I try to keep these things in the forefront of my mind.  And I always think to my s...

I couldn’t settle on one - I had to do two. What can I say? I absolutely adore people with a good sense of humor. I grew up in a family where you were either teasing or being teased. My father constantly cracked jokes, or would say something silly to make me laugh. I appreciate a sharp wit, I admire someone who can be clever with their vocabulary to say something that makes me break into a grin or better yet a gut busting all out laugh.  I have two nephews, who are about my age, who have made me laugh so hard I stop breathing - I just sat there with my mouth open - nothing coming out.  When I first met my husband, it wasn't his looks I was attracted to, that came later.  He opened his mouth...and I was hooked - he is quick witted - and I love it.  To this day, our fights usually turn into laughter, because he can say or do something to make me laugh and realize whatever we were fighting about, really wasn’t worth it.  I’m much more comfortable around anyone who...

This has been on my mind for quite a while...it’s been all over the news, and any time there’s a feeding frenzy on the news, of course, like everyone else, I’m intrigued.  I’m talking about the shooting of Trayvon Martin. Before I start let me go off on a tangent but it ties in with this - at least in my mind it does - promise.  One of my pet peeves are chain emails.  Particularly the kind that blasts someone-the president, his policies, being American, or UN-American - most of them cite ridiculous facts about utter nonsense.  I know. Because I research every single one of them, most of them are half truths taken out of context. Yet people mindlessly believe what they read and hit “send” in an effort to seem patriotic  and let everyone else know how stupid the (fill in  the blank) is and how much they love God. Everyone jumped on the Trayvon Martin bandwagon with such fervor - it’s disturbing to me how this escalated. It’s a tragedy - I’m not saying it ...

I’m skipping my blogging challenge for now because I just have tho get this off my chest. My daughter, who is 15 years old, the prime age for fragility and insecurities, was given some “advice” today by a boy on basically how she can improve her appearance.  For her sake, I won’t repeat what he said, but as she told me what he said - her voice quivering as those hurtful words poured out, I felt my jaw get closer and closer to the floor.  She told me she couldn’t even respond to him she was in such a state of shock - she just ran to the bathroom and cried. How can anyone  be so insensitive and cruel?  What gives him the right to point out her flaws so arrogantly? She told me up until today - she actually liked the guy - but now? Even if he tried to talk to her again, she doesn’t want anything to do with him.  Supposedly, he tried apologizing later - gee asshole, why don’t you think before you speak? The damage is done. I remember 15 - vividly .  I...

Everybody has difficulty from time to time - or a difficult issue to deal with. It’s life - but sometimes, it can overwhelm, threaten you, drown you.  Currently my own difficulties at times - well - seem insurmountable; being unemployed, trying to figure out what comes next, worrying about my future and finances...but these seem like mere nuisances when I consider what my husband deals with. He is currently the interim Chief of Police at his department - he has plenty of work to do and decisions to make - he knows what to do,  he knows what needs to be done, and he knows it’s the right thing to do, and he’s ready to make those decisions and face whatever comes as a result.  But...unfortunately, it’s just never that simple. Being chief does not mean he gets to call all the shots.  He must balance the needs of his officers, command staff and the city he works for.  And that balance is extraordinarily difficult...because the needs and wants of these 3 beasts just...

What’s the point of a blog if you’re not going to piss people off once in a while? Yep, I did it, I said the ‘C’ word.  There are two topics bound to get the hackles raised on most anybody - politics and religion.  I have nothing against catholics, christians or God - I have something against organized religion. I was born and raised Catholic.  But the older I get, the more I question the notion of organized religion, particularly Catholicism, because it’s what I grew up with.  After commenting on a blog about this subject, another commenter mistook my comments as something against Jesus and his teachings.  Let me make this very clear - again  - I have nothing against God or the teachings of Jesus Christ, I believe in them, I believe they are the foundation for any type of spirituality and in general, just a good way to live your life. Love your God, Love others. Period. It’s religion that gives me heartache...and like I said, I’m focusing on Catholicism be...

B is for Backward...which in my mind, is a good  summation of how I felt growing up.  Everything about me was out of place, awkward, didn’t fit.  Nobody I knew in school had parents as old as mine - other kids often mistook my dad for my grandfather. I’ve always been on the heavy side, my clothes never fit right, my legs are thick and short; to this day I hate trying on pants. I just didn’t look like the other girls. I always felt out of place.  My parents were very sheltering and overprotective, and as a child I was inclined to be introverted and very shy - I never knew what to say to anybody - why would anyone be interested in what I had to say?  Most people are afraid of public speaking, put me in a room full of people I don’t know to socialize and make small talk can instigate just as much fear in me.  I just never felt like I fit in anywhere - so I tended to be a loner. The dynamics of my family attributed to this somewhat.  Being the youngest and...

SO - I have a friend who helped get me started with the blog who is doing this challenge - every day for the month, (or in her case almost every hour), her topic focuses on a letter of the alphabet starting with A.  I’m going to try and meet her challenge and see how many letters I can get through before the end of the month.  Obviously I’m a little behind - so here goes. A is for Angels.  When I think of the letter A this is the first thing that pops into my head.  Perhaps because of my name.  I wholeheartedly believe in Angels.  There is something comforting about the thought of a spiritual presence sent to watch over and protect you - it’s always made me feel better thinking someone or something out there is on my side, helping me or guiding me when necessary.  If you were raised in any sort of religious household, Angels come with the territory.  They are viewed as guardians, protectors, even warriors in the case of the Archangel Michael sen...

So - given this is my first blog, I felt it would be appropriate to explain the title.  It’s about two things: one - obviously, my dad and two the dichotomy that was his life which profoundly impacted mine.  Someone recently told me that the word dichotomy was a good word to describe me - my dual nature - which I share with my dad.  Junkman seems to be such a demeaning title for someone you love dearly and he was so much more than that, but when I think back on my childhood with him, that’s what stands out in my memory.   My parents had me late in life; my mother was 43 my father was 53 - they already raised 4 children and had 4 grandchildren by the time I was born.  At that time he was facing medical retirement, which made it necessary for my mother to go back to work.  For the first time in their marriage, they reversed roles; she became the breadwinner, he became the caretaker.  If you’re familiar at all with Hispanic culture or machismo, you can o...